Holting On To The Moments
by RSteele82
Summary: Written in response to a request from IcyCalmMissHolt. This episode takes place during Season 4's Steele on the Air. After returning from Vail, will Steele and Laura be able to hold on to the intimacy and closeness that evolved during their time there? Or now that they are home, will day-to-day life become yet another roadblock to their finally moving ahead?
1. Chapter 1

This one-off takes place during Season 4's _Steele on the Air_ and was written in request to IcyCalmMissHolt's request that I infuse a little romance into an episode where it was decidedly missing.

My endless thanks to my editor-in-chief, best beta-reader I could have ever hoped for - my friend from Steele Watchers. Thank you, again, for keeping me true to character and fixing all my fun little typos derived from enthusiastic typing.

For the best experience when reading my stories, you will want to read them in order as the continuity of events is moved from one story to the next. The following is the order of current stories:

Steele Torn & Trying to Holt On  
Cannes Steele be Trusted (co-written with the super-talented SuzySteele)  
Steele Mending  
Steele Working out the Details  
Steele Settling In  
Steele Finding Comfort  
Steele Holting on To Christmas  
Steele Holting on To The Holiday  
Holting On To The Moments  
Steele Cold Relief  
Be Steele My Heart - Book 1

As always, if there is anything you would like to see in future stories or a story you would like written, just drop me a line.

I do not own the characters, profit from them, and write purely for the enjoyment..yada yada

* * *

Holting On & Steeling Moments

(Chapter 1)

Laura and Steele were in the reception area of the Agency. Laura persistently tapped at the keys of Mildred's computer, while Steele hovered close by, clearly out-of-sorts. Laura knew he was on edge, had been for days. If she were honest with herself, and she was trying to be more honest with herself where they were concerned these days, then she had to acknowledge his state had less to do with the case at hand, the potential People magazine cover and, yes, the increasingly demanding Mildred and far more to do with the state of affairs between them.

At the moment, he was choosing to focus his jangled nerves on Mildred's latest escapades and the predicament said escapades put he and Laura in.

Mildred had, just hours before, latched on to the Doug West case – the pilot for KROT radio station who had been murdered that morning – as yet another opportunity to level the proverbial playing ground between she, Laura and Steele, and after applying pressure on the couple now sat ensconced, undercover, at the station as the newest phone-in sex therapist. This, of course, meant that the tasks normally assigned to Mildred, and in which she excelled, were left in the hands of Laura and Steele. While Laura was becoming increasingly proficient at using the Agency's computerized resources, Steele still found the machines confounding. At the moment, both of their frustration levels were mounting: hers because the machine was not easily giving up its secrets to her, although it always seemed to be cooperative with Mildred, and he, because he wanted to be out doing legwork – _Legwork? My God, has it really come to the point that I'd rather be out doing legwork than to be this close to her?_ – but was currently stuck in the office as Mildred ran off to play detective.

"Really, Laura," he said now, "This has gotten out of control. Us, sitting here, dealing with this monstrosity, while Mildred is out there working our case."

"Well, you're the one who encouraged her to spread her wings," Laura reminded him.

"Yes, but not at the expense of the nest, for…I mean, whatever happened to good old Mildred? Sweet, adoring, servile?"

"She found out her boss is a fraud, remember?" Laura responded off-the-cuff, not seeing his cringe, yet knowing that he had nonetheless. She mentally lambasted herself for the snide remark. _Damn. What is it about me that I feel the need to take digs at him when I'm on edge? It doesn't help either of us, doesn't change the situation, only pricks at him and makes him bleed a little._

Steele looked at her, the snarky comment registering, sinking in. "Sometimes the truth can be so…unnecessary." _She's no idea what it's been like, old sport. Keep that in mind. You've not exactly shared with her the comments Mildred had made since Laura spilled the beans. Leave it alone. You've bigger problems to deal with at the moment with your Miss Holt._

"I don't mean to inconvenience you, Mr. Steele, but could we focus on our background check of Doug West?"

Steele leaned in closer over Laura's shoulder, looking at the monitor that still stubbornly refused to display the information they were seeking. With his head now only inches away from her neck, hovering only mere millimeters over her shoulder, he was immediately distracted by what was truly bothering him. He could clearly smell the honeysuckle scent of her hair, the faint scent of the expensive perfume she always wore, remembered how it felt to kiss, nip, taste her beautiful neck. _Something she's not allowed since the morning after we returned home from Vail,_ he reminded himself.

And therein lay the problem.

Laura had backed away again. He'd been grateful, bloody grateful in his own words, when she had turned to him instead of away the night they'd come home. When they'd arrived back in LA from Vail, they'd separated, gone to their own apartments, leaving both to stew in their own insecurities. For his part, he knew that she was going to put distance between them again, that when left alone to her own thoughts, she would second, third and fourth guess the time they had spent together and convince herself they had overstepped safe boundaries. He was correct. Laura had spent her time regretting her boldness while they were in Vail, and by the time she had picked up the phone to call him, had every intention of telling him they needed time, space. Yet, when he told her he missed her, before she could ever speak the words, she had found herself turning to him instead of away, asking him to spend the night at the loft. He'd gladly accepted the invitation and while they lay in bed that night, discussed her fears. They'd fallen asleep, tangled in one another's arms, he believing all would be fine, that they'd actually managed to successfully traverse the minefield of her fears.

Then it became clear they hadn't, at all.

She'd woken him the next morning in that delightful way of hers, with small touches guaranteed to stir him as her lips danced across his. They had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a café near the office, before spending a fairly boring day at the Agency. The slow period around the holidays, marked by what appeared to be one-and-all's good will towards men attitudes, meant Laura would commit herself - and him by the wayside – to reviewing all cases which had been cleared before the holidays, wrap up billing prior to the end of the fiscal year, and packing away old files in preparation for the new year ahead. While this was, by far, not Steele's favorite task, the fact it meant they would spend the days working side-by-side, almost made up for the tedium.

The first ominous sign of her withdrawal happened the night after their return from Vail. While they'd enjoyed a pleasant night in at Steele's place – dinner prepared by him, followed by wine as they stretched out before the fireplace – as they'd engaged in some skin tingling kissing, the moment his lips left hers and journeyed down her neck, he'd felt her stiffen. He'd willingly backed away, as he had for the many years preceding and had gracefully accepted when she fumbled around excuses for why she needed to go home. He knew Laura well enough to know she needed time to acclimate to any changes, large or small and certainly the advancement of their relationship in Vail had been anything but small. He'd not truly begun to worry until New Year's Eve.

Prior to Christmas they had accepted the invitation to Tracy Crockett's annual New Year's Eve party. Since they had helped Tracy prevent the takeover her father's company, not to mention introduced her to the twin sister she never knew she had, they'd been must-have guests at the Crockett affair. The change in guard from 1985 to 1986 would mark the third year they'd been in attendance.

Laura had chosen to drape herself in the white gown that she'd worn to the first dinner party they'd ever held jointly, the one held during the course of the Dillon case, in which the murderer was revealed. The dress left one shoulder bare, and clung to her slim frame in a way that made his heart beat a little faster. Throughout the night they stayed at one another's side, conversing with other guests while sharing small touches, dancing, and at midnight sharing a kiss that had started soft and tender, but escalated into deep and tantalizing, leaving both breathless when they parted. Their eyes had held as they wished one another a Happy New Year. When they'd departed the Crockett manor nearly an hour later, Steele was certain they would spend that night together, whether simply sleeping with their bodies wrapped around one another or, as was his secret hope, starting the New Year with a thorough exploration of one another as they'd enjoyed during their time in Vail. When Laura gave him a sweet kiss as Fred pulled the limo up in front of the loft and had then wished him a good night, it was only then he realized how far she was attempting to remove herself from him once again.

Not exactly an auspicious beginning to the New Year.

Yes, they were still committed, still spending their evenings together. But gone were the intimacies they'd been permitting themselves. Had it only been that she'd closed the slopes – no blue slope and certainly no Black Diamond as one had to navigate the first course in order to reach the second – he would be far less on edge. That she'd opened herself up that far in Vail, had taken the risk at all, was a major milestone in their relationship. To him, it was remarkable progress that they had reached that point at all, even if they did have to move back to the green slope while Laura battled her demons. It was ever widening gulf between them that had him on edge now, as Laura had slowly but purposefully begun backing away from the small touches they had shared throughout the day, the more ardent kisses at night.

 _Bloody hell, Laura,_ he thought to himself now, _I need to be close to you right now. I need to know you're not about to run again, to end us._

Unable to resist the temptation, he leaned in to press his lips against her neck. He closed his eyes, relishing the shiver he felt go through her body at the contact. Laura jerked sideways, removing her neck from his reach.

"Background check, Mr. Steele. Work…professional behavior…remember?" Laura reminded him mildly, continuing to focus on the machine in front of her. That she failed to predict his reaction spoke volumes about how much space she had forced between them in the last ten days.

Steele glanced at her, then stood to his full height, took a purposeful step back, then cocked a hip to half-sit on the desk.

"Of course, Miss Holt." While his response was nothing less than courteous, as was his way, Laura missed the mordant undertones of his words.

He stewed in his own sauce for the better part of a half hour, offering only mono- and bi-syllabic responses to her comments, which appeared to go unnoticed by her. At last he stood and walked into his office rolling down the sleeves of his shirt, refastening his cuff links as he went. _I bloody well have to get out of here before I explode. That, for certain, will do little good in resolving the problem at hand._ Grabbing his jacket off his chair, he exited his office and strode briskly through the reception area. He'd just shoved open the Agency doors when Laura looked up, surprised and called out to him.

"Hey, where are you going?" Her shock that he was leaving in the middle of the day without a word of explanation clearly shone in her voice.

"Out." His answer was brusque, cold spoken without so much as a pause in his step as he passed through the door and headed towards the elevator.

Laura jumped out of her seat and gave chase, stepping into the hall in time to watch his finger stab at the elevator button.

"Mr. Steele, it's the middle of the day. Need I remind you that we have business to conduct?" She involuntarily took a step back as he leveled an icy blue glare at her.

"I'm sure you'll be fine on your own, Miss Holt. It is, after all, how you prefer to be. You've made that much perfectly clear more often than I'd care to remember." He slung the words at her, not caring in the least at the moment about the fleeting hurt and confusion that crossed her face. With a ding, the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped inside, not looking back.

Laura watched the doors close behind him, then stared at the elevator as though willing him to come back. When the elevator continued obstinately downwards, as indicated by the lighted arrow above the door, she slowly turned and walked back into the suite. Bypassing Mildred's desk, she walked, a bit dazed by what had just occurred, into his office. Swinging up to sit on the window sill, she parted the drapes and watched below, searching for something, someone. She half expected to see the Auburn exiting the garage below, or at the very least Fred pulling up to the curb in the limo. What she hadn't expected was to watch as Steele exited the building, stopping at the curb, his hand swiping through his hair as he looked left then right, then with a second and final sweep at his hair, turn right and begin to walk away briskly. She watched until he disappeared from sight, and only then did her hand reach for her brow as she lay her head against the cool window pane.

 _What are you doing, Laura? He's hurt, angry, confused. Why wouldn't he be? You're doing it again, shoving him away. What are you going to do when you lock him out one time too many and he finally just washes his hands of you? You know that isn't what you want. So why do you keep doing it?_

Laura sighed deeply, then sliding off the sill, moved to plop down in Steele's chair before picking up the phone and tapping in a 11-digit number. The phone on the other side of the line rang three times before it was picked up.

"You better hope you're not a salesman, because so help me if you woke the baby when I just got him to sleep, it will be the last cold call you ever make." Bernice's voice came across the line, direct as always, not giving so much as a damn about what the caller might think. Laura giggled in response to her friend's non-customary greeting.

"I'm afraid to ask what my punishment will be if I woke him," Laura said with mirth.

"Laura! Thankfully, all is silent so I suspect the little man is still sleeping blissfully. But had you woken him? I'd see to it that you never investigated another case!" Bernice's laugh joined Laura's.

"I think that would violate the eighth amendment's clause against cruel and unusual punishment. Never investigate a case again? Surely you can think of something slightly less painful."

"Fine, a month at your mother's then."

Laura shuddered. "My P.I. license is yours for the taking." The two women laughed together, as Bernice knew only too well the difficult relationship between Laura and Abigail. "Seriously, how is the baby?"

"Getting into everything and making me absolutely crazy. I wouldn't give up a moment of it for anything."

"And Jason? Still planning to finally tie the knot with him?"

"Absolutely. And no excuses, Laura. You'd better be at the wedding."

"I will be, I promise."

"Will you be bringing along anyone I know?" Bernice was teasing, knowing full well that if Laura appeared with an escort it would mean Steele would be in tow. She frowned, as Laura sighed heavily on the other sign of the line. "Alright, spill, what's he done now?"

"He hasn't done anything."

"Alright, then what have you done now? Tell me that you finally let him rattle your teeth and are having morning after regrets." Laura sighed again on the other side of the line. "I take it that's a no. So what gives?"

"What's wrong with me, Bernice? Why do I keep shoving him away?"

"Do you need to hear it again?" Bernice's voice held concern. For years she'd watched her friend shy away from the dating scene and had wondered if anyone would ever spark Laura's interest enough that she'd finally let go, take a chance. When Steele had first wandered into the picture, Bernice had thought the man might finally give Laura a good teeth rattling that would propel her back out into the dating world. Date him? Heck no. Jump in the sack, have a good time, remind her what she was missing? Abso-frigging-lutely. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined during the year she and Steele were both with the agency that one day she would end up becoming one of his most ardent supporters, in a round-a-bout way at least. But, she'd become exactly that.

"I think I might."

"Okay. How many years has he been there now, Laura?"

"Going on four years now."

"Four years. The mysterious stranger that never stayed anywhere for more than a few months. What did I tell you a year and a half ago, six months ago, about that?"

"That the fact that he'd stayed that long carried mathematical significance."

"And what else?"

"That a man doesn't stay around that long for just a job."

"Right. Now, did the man wait you out after you dumped him in Europe? Did he come back to LA after you left him to go to Mexico with that attorney?"

"He doesn't know about William…" Laura hedged.

"Forget about the attorney. Did he stick around after Europe, come back after the last time you dumped him?"

"Yes."

"And what did we decide about that?"

"That it carried even more mathematical significance."

"Exactly. Cold, hard logic says the man plans to stick around. Now what's he done so right this time that has made you set aside mathematical certainty in favor of illogical emotions?"

Laura started laughing. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You're forgetting, I worked with the man for almost a year. I'd believe almost anything."

"He took me on vacation to Vail after Christmas."

"Laura, are you telling me you finally let the man rattle your teeth?"

"No, but we firmly rounded third base."

"And? Details, I want details."

"Let's just say if the preliminaries are any indication, getting my teeth rattled won't even begin to describe what it will be like when we slide into home."

"So then what's the problem?"

"Problems. Partly, that I still don't know how he feels about me. Mostly, that I want to be with him as much as I can be and I'm worried the pressure of that will send him running for the hills."

"Okay. First things first. Have you told him that you're in love with him yet?"

"Of course not. I don't know…"

"Laura, remember who you're talking to and don't start with the denials or I'll simply hound you until you admit it."

"No, then, I haven't told him I love him… that I'm in love with him." She stumbled over the words, even though she'd admitted her feelings to Bernice long ago. Okay, Bernice had pried the admission out of her long ago, in all fairness.

"Do you believe he loves you?" Bernice asked, already knowing the answer to the question as they'd spoken more than once on the topic.

"I think so, yes."

"Then what's the problem? Tell him already."

"And if I'm wrong? It will always be out there."

Bernice frowned at the phone. "Take a risk already. You'll never know unless one of you makes the first move." Laura remained stubbornly silent. Bernice shook her head. She'd tried to convince Laura many times before to just go for it, without success. She knew a losing battle before it began, and decided to let it go. "Okay, so what makes you think he'll run for the hills? The man's finally getting something after all these years, and you think he's going to take off now? Seems to me he would have cut his losses after years of getting nothing at all, not now."

"It's… complicated. It's not the part about moving our sex life ahead. It's the other things."

"What _other things_? As far as I know we've already covered the three big ones: love, lust and loss."

"Since London…not all the time…well, really just London and once since until Vail…Oh, hell. If you laugh at me Bernice, I swear I'll never tell you anything again."

"Enough with the threats. Just spill it already."

Laura thrummed her fingers on the desk. "Fine, we've been sleeping together."

"Laura Holt, are you telling me you've been holding out on me? That you've been getting that itch scratched for months now and haven't given me the details…"

"No, no, Bernice. Nothing like that." Laura interrupted the other woman with an eye roll, then was mortified when a blush crept up her face even before she spoke the words. "Just sleeping together. You know, good night, sleep, good morning… sleeping together." She stilled, waiting for the other woman's laugh.

"Sleeping together….You and Skeeziks just sleeping together." In her kitchen, Bernice turned and leaned her back against the counter thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see why that would have you on edge."

"What do you mean?" Laura was flummoxed by Bernice's response. She'd expected the woman to laugh, to tease, to find the words to make her realize she was being far too serious about the situation. Not this.

"Well, think about it, Laura. Why do so many women do the walk of shame after a one-night stand? Why do so many men slip out of bed in the middle of the night and disappear? Why is it easier to dispense with the morning after with another quickie, then tossing on your clothes and getting the hell out of there?"

"Regret, embarrassment?"

"No, Laura. Because sleeping with someone – just sleeping – is in many ways more intimate than sex. And to just sleep together without the sex? To just want that closeness with another person? Yeah. I can see why you'd be edge. And him? Wow. I'm betting you really have Skeeziks tied up in knots."

"How do you figure that?" Laura's curiosity was peeked now.

"Laura, the only reason a man 'just sleeps' with a woman is because he needs an intimacy with her that doesn't even come with sex. Take it from the belle of the ball who searched bars, clubs and parties everywhere and never found that. The man's got it bad for you. So what's the problem?"

Laura sighed deeply then searched for her brow with her fingers. "I don't know," she growled the words, clearly frustrated. "What's wrong with me Bernice? I want him with me, especially at night. It's never been like that, not even with Wilson and we lived together! I wake up at night looking for him, as though even when I'm sleeping I'm trying to find him and can't. When he's there I feel… I can't believe I'm going to say this… I feel safe, happy… at peace. When he's there, I can't imagine it being any other way. It's out of control, Bernice. _I'm_ out of control."

"Well thank God for that! It's about time some of those walls you've built around yourself are coming down, that you're starting to break some of those rules that you've surrounded yourself with."

"They're there for a reason. They keep me from getting out of control, they keep me…"

"From getting hurt. Like your father. Like Wilson." Bernice finished the sentence in exasperation. "You're wrong, Laura. The only thing they are keeping you from doing is living. I have a couple of questions, and I want your word you'll answer me honestly."

"Alright." Laura agreed hesitantly, knowing that Bernice had a penchant for getting straight to the matter.

"Were you and Skeeziks happy in Vail?"

Laura let her mind wander back in time, as their moments in Vail ticked through her head: The dancing, skiing, Steele reading to her while they were in bed together, sledding down the hill out back, making snow angels, the hot tub… oh, the _hot tub_ …the nights falling asleep in one another's arms and in the morning waking still wrapped around each other. Happy seemed a gross understatement of what they were while in Vail.

"Yes, very." She smiled as she realized she meant it.

"Are you happy right now?"

She took a moment, thinking about the last ten days: backing away from him, when she only wanted to get closer; her handy excuses so that she could make a hasty exit from his apartment in the evenings; the restless nights, wanting him near; this moment, here and now and the feeling they were losing everything that had been working for.

"Not exactly."

"And Skeeziks? Is he happy?"

"Hurt, angry, would be a more accurate description." She sighed loudly, remembering the look on his face, the words he'd hurled, the clear frustration he'd exuded as she'd watched him on the sidewalk below.

"Logically, then, it would seem those rules, those walls of yours aren't keeping you from being hurt. They're only keeping you from being happy, while hurting both of you. What do you think?"

"What would you do, Bernice?"

"You know what I'd do. I'd go for it. Listen, Laura, I've got to run. The little man just woke up, and if I don't get in there, he'll try climbing out of the crib."

"Go, go." Laura laughed, still having a hard time picturing Bernice as a mother. "And Bernice, thanks."

"Any time. Remember, New York City. I expect to see you there with a certain Irishman in tow. I've got to run, literally. Bye."

Laura hung up the phone then stood and returned to look out the window, pulling herself back up on the ledge to sit after a moment. She scanned the ground below for any sign of Steele to no avail. She remembered again the icy blue glare, the cold, clipped words spoken as he'd left and closed her eyes. Bickering and arguing were nothing new to she and Steele. No, they imbibed nearly daily. In fact, given they were both strong and passionate individuals, such occurrences were elemental to their relationship. Often the arguments were worn as comfortably as a favorite pair of old jeans, while at others those arguments provided an outlet for the frustration, sexual and emotional, that were a natural offshoot of years of dancing towards each other and then away.

Rarely, however, did her Mr. Steele reach the point he had today and generally only after she'd hurt him on a personal level. She'd briefly seen the anger years ago in Acapulco during the time she'd first begun erecting walls against him. She leaned her head back against the frame of the window, allowing her mind to wander to that moment.

* * *

 _ **"How long do I have to keep on proving myself to you? I mean, why is it so important what I was? I mean, we've been together for what could be called a season. Doesn't that count for anything?"**_

 _ **"Seasons come and go and when they're over, sometimes you can hardly remember them," she told him, a flippant air to her voice.**_

 _ **Propelling himself off the bed where he was sitting, he stalked across the room towards her, grabbing her arm as she walked away from him. "Dammit, Laura, I care for you." Then she was in his arms, he kissing her hard, deep, with more passion, more emotion than he'd ever permitted himself before. Until that moment, his kisses had always held an underlying tenderness. This kiss was one of need to show her what she meant to him, to be close to her. She'd responded until her fear forced her to rip her mouth from his, to push herself away from him, out of his arms**_

 _ **"Don't!"**_

 _ **"Why not?"**_

* * *

On that day she'd seen briefly, only for a few seconds, the same frustration and hurt that she'd seen today. Even during their argument in Cannes, when they'd fileted one another with words as they walked the city streets, he'd kept the anger, the hurt contained, as best he could. Today, though, she knew it was different from the times before. That his tone, his terse replies, the words he said were reminiscent of the only time she could recall him walking away, turning away from her, chilled her to the core. _You better make up your mind once and for all, Holt, before he ends up making up his mind for the both of you this time._

Last spring when Steele had packed up and left, Laura had reached out to Bernice for support as she'd felt her life was falling apart around her. At first, Laura had been furious, his leaving proof of what she always knew would happen: one day he would just walk away without a glance back. If she'd expected Bernice to support her anger, she'd been wrong.

* * *

" _ **Well, what did you expect, Laura?" Bernice had asked. "The man's stuck it out for three years and where has it gotten him? Dumped, again? This time for another man? Why would he stick around?"**_

* * *

Bernice's words had stung, badly. That Steele never knew she'd made plans to go to Mexico with Westfield was of little importance. That she'd realized Steele was whom she wished to be with before the plane ever left the ground was of little consequence. That she'd blindsided him a mere week after their time in San Francisco was, at the end of the day, was what had mattered. That she'd ended them twice within nine months had been the death knell.

Granted, she'd by no means ended them this time. They still spent nearly every evening together, worked together side-by-side during the day. They still kissed, frequently. She'd merely backed them up to their pre-Vail days, attempting to control her own burgeoning needs. _And in doing so, failed to consider what he asked of me in Vail._

* * *

" _ **Bloody hell, Laura. When are you going to start coming to me when you're scared, instead of running from me?"**_

* * *

Laura straightened her back, craning her neck when Steele came into view down below. She noted his jacket was now off, slung carelessly over a shoulder, his other hand shoved in a pocket. He stopped in front of their building, clearly undecided about whether he was ready to return to the office. Removing his hand from his pocked, he rubbed it across the lower part of his face several times, before sweeping it once through his hair. Even from 11 floors up, she could see his sigh of resignation as he shook his head, before he started for the doors to the building. That he'd been gone for a little over and hour and was still reluctant to return to the office, to her, made Laura's heart ache. _You need to mend some fences here, Holt, immediately_ , she directed herself.

Standing, Laura smoothed down her skirt before returning to sit in front of Mildred's computer in the reception area. Seeing that no results had been returned on her prior search, she logged into the insurance company data base and after tapping several keys hit enter. The computer could conduct its search while she and Steele spoke.

She raised her head towards the door as he entered. Their eyes met, causing him to pause for a fraction of a second, then, averting his eyes he continued without a word to his office, where he slung his coat over a chair before heading towards the private bathroom. Laura took a deep breath, then stood up, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt once more. After locking the lobby doors – _We don't need to be disturbed during this conversation –_ she walked hesitantly into his office. Hearing the running water in the bathroom, she approached the open door then leaned against the adjacent wall.

"Where did you go?" she asked, hoping the question sounded casual not interrogatory.

"For a walk." His voice had lost the cold edge it had held when he'd abruptly departed, but the resigned tone it now held offered little in the way of comfort. He patted his face dry with a hand towel, and hung the towel back on the rack prior to returning to his office.

"Did the walk help clear your head?" She pressed herself up against the wall as he passed, galling herself at her reaction. _Amazing how a little guilt can cause one to lose a good deal of backbone._ She mentally shook herself, then lifted herself up to her full height, straightened her shoulders and prepared for… battle? She wasn't sure where the conversation was going to lead.

"I wasn't aware my head required any….clearing." He showed great interest in the process of rolling down his shirt sleeves and refastening his cuff links, refusing to make eye contact with Laura. Pushing herself off of the wall, Laura approached him hesitantly.

"Look, we need to talk…" His heavy sigh made her pause. She watched as Steele moved to lean his backside against the edge of his desk, before he crossed his arms.

 _May as well get this over with then. No time like the present, and the like._ "Ahhhh, four of my favorite words when they come from you, Miss Holt. 'We need to talk.' What's it to be this time then? I haven't lied to you in order to help a friend. Since our license is not in jeopardy, as far as I'm aware at least, I don't imagine I'm to be blamed for losing it. So, by all means, please do tell me what egregious act that I may or may not have committed providing the impetus for you ending us once more?" His voice had regained its angry edge, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

Involuntarily, Laura took a step back from him. Shell-shocked by both what he believed she intended to do as well as the intensity of his emotions, words failed her. She simply stood, staring at him, mouth agape. She lifted her hands towards him, attempted to speak, and floundering dropped her hands.

"C'mon, Laura. Let's have it." He shoved himself off the desk as he spoke, began to pace, his hand frequently stabbing at his hair. "You may have caught me off guard last time, but I'm not a buggering idiot. You let yourself get too close, opened yourself up, so it's time to take me to my knees. Better that I be the one that's left than you, eh? If I've learned nothing from the last two times, I've at least learned that."

"Is that…" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, began again, "Is that what you want?"

"No, that's not what I want! I want the same thing I've wanted the last three and half years. But what I want seems of little matter when it comes to you and I." Temper run its course, he found himself suddenly bone weary and returned to lean against the desk. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he watched her warily as she approached, flinched involuntarily when her hands touched his sides.

"I have no intention of ending us." Her fingers caressed his sides from waist to ribs, trying to soothe his rattled nerves.

"If not that, then what? You've been backing away. I can feel it, see it." He was clearly perplexed when she looked up at him, a rueful smile on her face.

"I think in my own way I was trying to keep us together."

"Yet again I find myself wondering if I will ever truly understand how that remarkable mind of yours works, Laura. How exactly does putting as much distance as possible between us keep us together?" His hands at last came out of his pockets to lay on her hips, as the tension began seeping away from his body. Laura closed her eyes, leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest as her hands slipped lower to run along the sides of his hips. She let out a deep sigh, then let her amber eyes meet his blue ones.

"I want more. More time with you. More nights with you. More...more…" she growled low in her throat, frustrated she was stumbling over the words "…to explore more of the slopes with you. I don't want to overwhelm you, to ask more than you're willing… no want… to give. I don't want to you to feel so pressured that you back away, leave." Her words broke off as she dropped her forehead back down to rest on his chest, but not before he saw the flush that had begun to pinken her skin before she hid from him.

"So, then, by backing off, putting distance between us, you are trying to make it easier on me?" He found the notion so Laura – absurd yet logical at the same time – that he began to laugh. She looked up at him, shocked at first, then a slow smile spread across her face until she began to laugh with him. "Does it appear to have worked?"

"The evidence would suggest not."

"Perhaps a new approach is called for then, eh? Starting with a more appropriate response when I do this?" Dipping his head down, he ran his lips lightly across the column of her neck, felt her shiver in response. She sighed, and pressing her body closer to his lifted her head back, providing him more access as her fingers trailed up his back, into his hair. "Mmmmm, much improved," he murmured against her skin.

Her left hand skimmed up his chest until her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, releasing several under his already loosened tie, until she had access enough to skim her hand under the fabric. At the touch of her hand against his bare skin, he sighed deeply, and abandoning her neck his lips found hers. He nibbled playfully for a moment, then in response to her hum of pleasure, his lips settled firmly over hers, seeking fuller contact. Lips touched, tugged, a tongue flicked, her mouth opened eagerly under his, and the kiss deepened, their hums of gratification merging into one. The kiss ended only when both needed oxygen more than contact. Laura bussed him on the neck, before taking a step back, her hands rebuttoning his shirt. Seeing his look of disappointment, she smiled at him.

"Mildred should be back any minute. The last thing either of us want is her catching us and having to deal with her little 'knowing' looks the rest of the day."

He harrumphed in the back of his throat. "Much rather that then all her little witticisms and commentaries of late," he mumbled, as he followed Laura back into the reception area where she unlocked the door then resumed sitting in Mildred's chair.

"This is really bothering you isn't it?" she asked in mixture of surprise and concern. He leaned across the desk to look at the monitor with her, arms resting on the radio there.

"Well, yes," he answered honestly, some of his frustration reflected in his voice. "I'm not speaking only of the comments to me either. Have you not noticed that she demands equal footing with you as well? She's getting out of control, Laura."

Laura had turned to watch him as he spoke, her brows furrowing. _Perhaps this warrants more attention than I've been giving it, to bother him as much as it clearly is._ Her hand touched his, their eyes meeting. "Let's air all this out tonight, when we won't be interrupted. Agreed?"

He nodded, then his brows raised in interest at something on the monitor. Nodding towards it, he noted, "Seems that bag of bolts has ferreted out an insurance policy."

Laura turned in her chair and hitting the enter key on the board, brought up the details of the policy. They read the information silently, then raised their brows at one another, before looking at the screen once more.

Mildred walked brusquely into the office, offering neither a greeting. Instead, she announced "I think we've got this one all wrapped up," before snapping her fingers at Laura and Steele, pointing to his office. "Let's huddle," she commanded.

Steele glanced at Laura, his look all but saying "I told you so," and Laura's brow raised in pensive contemplation. They both approached the office with combined trepidation and curiosity, to find Mildred standing before Steele's desk, clearly planning on running this meeting.

She clapped her hand, clearly pleased with herself. "I got our motive." She walked around the desk sitting in Steele's chair, relegating him to sit in a chair in the conference area as Laura stood nearby.

"Umm, hmm," Steele replied, allowing Mildred the lead, as Laura watched.

"Okay. Your typical love triangle. Boy meets girl. Girl is married. Boy kills husband, boy and girl live happily ever after."

"Can we assign names to these boys and girls?" Laura asked a bit irritably.

"Norman Austin and Mrs. Doug West," Mildred answered.

"You're kidding!" Laura was clearly shocked at this turn of events.

"I caught them in the middle of a very hot embrace."

" _Body Heat_ ," Steele noted off-hand.

"It certainly was." Mildred lifted her brows, confirming what she believed was only a commentary on the position in which the couple were seen.

"Kathleen Turner, William Hurt, Warner Brothers, 1981. A man and woman plot to kill the woman's husband in order to make it look like an accident."

"What did you kids dig up?" Mildred queried.

"Uh, it seems that our Mrs. West is the sole beneficiary of a very large life insurance policy." Steele answered.

"It could be a very nice windfall for a fading disc jockey facing forced retirement," Mildred commented, then added smugly, "I found out that Tyler and Austin are losing audience."

"Good work, Mildred!" Despite his irritation with her comments and behavior of late, it was against his nature not to commend a job well done.

"But you're overlooking the man's alibi. Norman Austin was on the air when the plane blew up. I heard him." Laura's observation of the obvious flaw in Mildred's theory deflated the room.

* * *

Was Steele justified in his reaction to Laura backing away yet again? Do you agree with Bernice's advice that Laura should just go for it?

How did you like Bernice appearing in one of the stories? I have personally always adored the character and wish she had been brought back from time to time :)


	2. Chapter 2

Holting On To The Moments

(Chapter 2)

Despite the fact that it was January, the unseasonably warm weather from Christmas had lingered on in Los Angeles. Deciding to take advantage of the cool, yet comfortable evening, Laura and Steele left the office and adjourned to the fountain below where they could converse with some privacy, while also enjoying one another's company. Despite the early hour of not quite eight o'clock, the sun had set hours earlier, the dark sky cloaking the city and area around them, the only light cast coming from the lit fountain nearby. They strolled hand-in-hand in silence, simply enjoying one another's company, for a full circuit of the fountain. After exchanging several kisses, they resumed walking, conversation now flowing freely.

"It seems to me we have three topics at hand: Us, Mildred and the case. Where do you want to start?" Laura, as always, was direct and to the point.

"You lead, I'll follow, Miss Holt, although I am inclined to believe a discussion about us would be best served in front of a fire with a glass of wine in hand."

"Are you saying we need to be inebriated in order to have that conversation?" she asked, with raised brows.

"Not at all. We do, however, seem to have much more productive conversations when we are relaxed and not preoccupied with other matters."

Laura gave his words due consideration and recognized the validity of his observation. Their most fruitful discussions of their relationship in recent months had occurred in London and then in Vail, when there was no business to attend to, no other issues at hand. She nodded her agreement.

"Alright, so that leaves Mildred and the case. Let's start with the former. What witticisms and commentaries?"

"Ah, Laura, perhaps I shouldn't have brought it up. I've learned how to live with your little barbs about my past, in time I'm sure it will become second nature with Mildred as well." He dropped her hand, walked to the edge of the fountain and sat down, running his hands across his face.

"Look, I'm sorry about my comment earlier. I don't know why I say the things I do at times." She walked towards him, hands raised, then dropped them as he looked up at her, with resignation.

"You wouldn't be Laura Holt if you didn't. It's part of the package. If I want you, I choose to live with it." He shrugged, turned his head, looking out into the darkness.

"Do you choose to live with it from Mildred as well then? Is that what you're saying?"

"I wasn't given a choice in the matter, now was I, Laura?" His penetrating gaze caught her own, watching as she registered his meaning.

"You're angry with me for telling Mildred the truth." It was a statement of fact, said with hesitation, a touch of guilt. He looked away from her, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "You are, aren't you?" He sighed.

"Leave it alone, Laura. I don't think this is ground on which we wish to traipse at the moment." He watched as Laura literally planted her feet, drawing herself to her full height and was forced to accept the fact she was not going to leave it alone, bulldog terrier that she was.

"Answer the question, Mr. Steele." A demand now, not a question. He stood, began to pace.

"Well, yes, if you must know. Can you deny you told Mildred about my past for any reason other than you were angry at me? Believing I'd left you once more by my own choosing?" His voice had pitched higher with his mounting frustration, knowing full well this particular conversation could only lead to disaster.

"She found your passports. I didn't have a choice!" She refused to look at him as the prevarication rolled off her tongue. While Mildred had, in fact, found his passports, Laura hadn't volunteered the information about Steele's past until her fury over him disappearing once more loosened her tongue. A little payback, she knew, for him possibly leaving her voluntarily again.

"We both know that's not true. You had any number of choices. Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me you had no choice?" His arms swept out towards her in frustration before he turned away from her to pace once more.

"What was I supposed to do? She wanted to know…" He spun on his heel, turned to face her as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Please, do not insult my intelligence, belittle your own. You, Laura Holt, the woman who created a fictitious boss out of thin air, who for the last six years has convinced LA…bloody hell, the world… that this shadow man exists and has straight along, couldn't come up with an explanation for five passports? I don't begin to pretend that I could come up with a more elaborate ruse than your Remington Steele and even I could come up with a benign explanation for those passports if pressed, beginning with they were a carefully orchestrated cover for when I needed one." His frustration flowed freely from him, arms moving wildly as he gesticulated.

"Have you any idea what a relief it was for two years to come to the office and not have everyone within looking at me with veiled suspicion in their eyes? _'What's he up to now?'_ Mildred at least believed in me, respected me, even when you did not! Now, it's just as it was with Murphy, only worse. At least when _he_ questioned my capabilities he had grounds. I'd no training, I'd no experience. For three years now… _three years_ … I have laid myself on the line for you, this agency…have worked side-by-side with you to build the agency, nurture its reputation, build the clientele… _have been your partner_! Yet, here I am once more, the errant school boy, looked at in askance, my capabilities doubted, my motives questioned, nothing more than a figurehead to be thought of dismissively. Have you _any idea_ what it is like for _me_?"

He spun to face Laura once more, noted the hand on her brow, the strain on her face. His regret was instantaneous and was written all over him. "I'm sorry, Laura, I shouldn't have…" His words broke off when she raised a hand at him to stop.

"No, no, keep going. I want to hear all of it… need to hear all of it. What else? What's been said to you?" He exhaled deeply, then sat on the edge of the fountain once more. This time, Laura joined him, lacing one of her hands through his. "What else?" she prompted softly. "Tell me."

He closed his eyes, lifted his head towards the sky for a moment, before rubbing a hand through his hair as he turned to look at her.

"She believed me capable of gambling away the agency that you have fought so hard to build. She, of course, knows now that I have no actual authority in the Agency, and has made that abundantly clear time and again. She has told me directly that she believes I am less qualified than she to do my job. Perhaps Mildred is right on all of it but the first." Pulling his hand from her grip, he stood and walked away once more, turning his back to her as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What did Mildred say to you? About your qualifications?" She leaned forward where she sat, placing her elbows on her knees, watching him intently. She knew instinctively he needed to get it all off his chest, whether willingly or by demand. When he glanced at her, the look she gave him made it clear she would not relent until she knew it all and was greeted by another sigh of frustration.

"Do you recall when I went to speak to Mildred after she quit?" Laura nodded in the affirmative.

"Yes."

* * *

 _ **"We want you back," Steele told Mildred then, to which she shook her head in the negative in response.**_

 _ **"I don't think so."**_

 _ **"Look, Mildred, I apologize. I'm really sorry." Mildred had diligently ignored him while circling 'help wanted' ads in the paper. "Would you at least do me the courtesy of looking up while I grovel?"**_

 _ **"I don't want you to grovel."**_

 _ **"Tell me what you do want, then."**_

 _ **"How about a little respect for once?"**_

 _ **"You've always had that, Mildred."**_

 _ **"Yeah? Then how come when you look at me, you only see someone to fetch your coffee and make your appointments? Oh, I know why you brought Marvin in. Because lately I'm spending more time with the Agency business, and you miss your personal attention."**_

 _ **"You were so winning as the adoring subordinate, Mildred."**_

 _ **"Well, you can't turn back the clock. And I learned your secret in London, and it's just changed my outlook."**_

 _ **"I see. Is my secret really that meaningful? I mean, we're a team, the three of us. You, Miss Holt, me. Let's not break that up."**_

 _ **"Look, before I signed on as your major domo, I was a member of the IRS fraud squad, remember? It's very discouraging to find out that I have more qualifications for your job than you do."**_

 _ **"Well, I may not have had the formal training, Mildred, but I-"**_

 _ **"I figure that if you can play detective, I can play more than pencil pusher. And that's that."**_

* * *

Laura nodded her head, absorbing the conversation he'd shared. "And the other? About you having no actual authority with the Agency?"

"During the same conversation in which she made it a point to tell me I'd need your permission to negotiate her remaining with the Agency. Then of course, the Crunch Kramer case, in which you made it clear her beliefs that I have no authority were true."

"Me?" She elongated the word, incredulous that he would point the finger towards her. "I never did any such thing!"

"Didn't you?"

* * *

 _ **"Laura, are you aware I've already turned Mr. Kramer down?"**_

 _ **"You what?"**_

 _ **"Two days ago. You can still see his shoe prints in the carpet. Ask Mildred."**_

 _ **Laura opened the door to the outer office. "Ok Millie. Front and center."**_

 _ **Mildred entered, immediately turning to speak with Steele. "I know this case has been rejected, but I think Crunch really needs our help. I had to go to the boss for a second opinion."**_

 _ **"The boss has spoken, Mildred," he replied.**_

 _ **"She means me and she has a point," Laura noted, a bit haughtily.**_

 _ **"Aaaahhh." Mildred was pleased to find Laura had just confirmed that it was she, and she alone, with the authority to make the final decision on the matter.**_

 _ **"You keep out of this," he told Mildred before turning to Laura to ask, "I thought**_  
 _ **we had a partnership?"**_

 _ **"We do. But it remains my agency and I have to be involved in all major decisions."**_

* * *

"There was no discussion on the matter, no give and take," he told her now. "Simply a statement of my lack of say, my lack of any authority, of your lack of regard for my opinion. Is it no wonder she recognizes I am merely a subordinate, one that she sees as lesser than even herself?"

"You blame me." Her softly spoken question was answered with only a shrug of his shoulders.

"I think you have larger concerns than my thoughts on why things are as they are, at the moment at least. As I said earlier today, we've, not I, _we've_ created a monster that is currently running amok."

"I'm not sure that I would go that far…"

"Oh? When I agreed to allow Mildred to intern, she insisted upon that raise to cover her 'additional' duties. It seems to me that additional means she would remain responsible for her normal course of duties. Yet, we spent a goodly part of the day today doing research for which Mildred is responsible, as we have on past cases I might add. Lest you forget, she barged into the apartment when it was clear we wished to be alone to gloat that we – well given the current circumstances – you were wrong in the Kramer case. She has demanded that she be part of the _People_ article, although in what company a mere associate is included as part of a national news spread is beyond me. Then of course, there was the audacity to snap her fingers at us – literally snapped her fingers – and demand we follow her into the office today where she then held council over us as though we were the associates. I saw well your response to that!"

"I will admit that I was a bit off put by her attitude today."

"Put off? Had I done the same you would have verbally boxed my ears, have in fact done so in the past for the same audacity might I remind you." He took a deep breath, then after letting it out went and sat down next to Laura on the fountain's edge. "Don't take me wrong, Laura. I care for Mildred very much, she's family, an invaluable part of our team. I'm simply…"

"Frustrated?" she offered when he stopped prior to completing the sentence.

"Mmmmmm. That's as good a word for it as any, I suppose. Shall we walk and turn our attentions to the case at hand?" He stood, offering his hand to her. When she joined him, they resumed walking, side-by-side, around the fountain.

"It can't be Norman Austin," Laura insisted, her dismay at the possibility palpable. "I've listened to him forever. The only thing he's guilty of is making bad jokes." Steele lay a hand lightly on her arm, stopping their forward progress as an idea took hold in his mind.

"Addlepated Theater."

"What about it?"

"Bud does all those silly voices. It's both of them. Tyler _and_ Austin."

"Mr. Steele, I think _People_ magazine has turned your mind to _mush_."

"No, no, no. I really think I have something." At the sound of an engine revving from somewhere behind them, he glanced over his shoulder, in time to see a car, tires squealing, heading directly for them as it accelerated. They reacted instinctively, diving head first into the fountain alongside of them. Despite the fact that they quickly pulled themselves to their feet, the car was out of sight before they could get a description of the vehicle or its license plate number. Nevertheless, Steele stood smiling widely next to Laura, as both stood in dripping wet clothes.

"What are you grinning at, Mr. Steele? Someone just tried to kill us!"

"Precisely, Miss Holt. We must be on the right track." Pulling his sopping wet handkerchief from his pocket, he mopped, in vain, at his face. Stepping over the edge of the fountain onto the pathway next to it, he offered his hand to Laura. "Might I suggest we adjourn to the office and get changed? I think I have an idea of how we can confirm my theory, if it's correct."

Laura took his hand, and stepped out of the fountain. When she reached the ground next to him, he wrapped his arm around her waist as they made their way towards their office building.

* * *

Two days later, Steele and Laura had not yet had the opportunity to sit down and work out the details in their relationship. Between the case, the _People_ photo shoot and, of course, an evening sitting at the police station listening to the useless and false confession of Norman Austin, they'd had not a private moment to spend with one another. Their mutual frustration at this turn of events had led to predictable results: Steele was distracted by every alluring move made by Laura – a touch of her own neck, the tapping of her hand, the sway of her hips – while Laura was short-tempered and prickly. The tension made the rather mundane task of surveilling Rick Badham uncomfortable at best. By the time Badham had crashed the van in which he was transporting counterfeit records, Laura had had enough. Once the police had confiscated the vehicle and its contents – less a couple of the albums surreptitiously nicked by Steele – Laura grabbed his arm and hauled him across the street away from onlookers.

"Look," she began, hands on her hips, "this has gotten to the point of being ridiculous. We need time to ourselves, before we are completely useless to this case and anything else. Do you agree?" Steele rubbed his hand across the back of his neck while looking around them.

"Come on." His voice was gruff from the strain of the afternoon, the nearly two weeks when they'd had not nearly enough time together. Grabbing her hand, he pulled Laura halfway down a nearby alleyway, then backing her against a brick wall, his arms anchored on either side of her, he seized her lips with his own. His lips moved hungrily over hers, demanding her participation. She rose to the challenge, her hands grabbing his hips, pulling his body forward until he pressed her against the wall, as her mouth opened under his, her tongue greedily making contact with his when it entered her mouth. He moaned loudly when her teeth playfully nipped his tongue, then tearing his mouth away from hers, sought and found the side of her neck.

"This is not what I meant," she told him breathlessly, then hummed with desire when he pulled an earlobe into his mouth, his tongue running over it. Her hands slipped under his jacket seeking closer contact with his back, his mouth continuing to graze down the length of her neck.

"Needed nonetheless," he murmured, his hot breath against her skin sending shivers down her spine. She arched her neck, needing more contact with him. His hand popped open a button of her shirt, then brushed the collar aside far enough that his lips could find her shoulder. She let out a staccato breath at the contact, her hands yanking the back of his shirt out from under his belt, her hands slipping underneath the tail to make contact with his skin. At the touch of her hands on his bare back, he lost focus, sucking the skin of her shoulder into his mouth with a groan of appreciation.

"Damn it, you gave me another hickey," she mumbled.

"Mmmm, you have yourself to blame, touching me like this in an alleyway." He spoke as his lips retraced their path up her neck.

"We have to stop." She gasped when his tongue flicked out against the skin under her ear, her fingers sinking into his back at the sensation.

"We do. Not at all appropriate." He agreed, then groaned as a hand skimmed the small of his back, as his lips found the underside of her jaw.

"Kiss me." A hand ran over the cheek of his buttock, eliciting another groan from him, as one of his hands dropped away from the wall to trace a path up her side.

"My pleasure." He readily agreed, before melding his lips to hers again, as a thumb brushed over the side of her breast, making her shiver from the sensuous contact.

"Oh, God," she gasped in response to his touch. Using all of her concentration, she forced her head to turn, breaking their mouths apart. "Enough. Really, we have to stop." Her breath came hard and fast. When he lifted his eyes to hers, they were darkened with desire, yet he nodded his agreement before resting his forehead against her own, while wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him.

"Stay with me tonight, after the warehouse." He grimaced at the near pleading tone he heard in his own voice. Never had a woman reduced him to this. That it was Laura who had did not surprise him.

"Okay." She agreed readily, as a hand left his bare back to find the back of his head, drawing him down for another kiss. "But we talk before the warehouse." She felt his nod of agreement under her hand, before their lips met again briefly.

"Dinner at my place?" Loosening his grip on her he stood, finally in control of both his breathing and his ardor. He stepped back from her, tucking his shirt back into his pants as he moved, while nodding his head towards her shirt, reminding her to refasten the button he had slipped open. She looked down and laughed, then nimbly threaded the button back through the hole.

"Sounds wonderful. I'll grab whatever I need from the loft when we wrap up this afternoon." He leaned forward for one last, sweet kiss, before stepping back and holding out his arm, indicating she should walk ahead of him out of the alleyway.

With his hand on the small of her back guiding her, they returned to the car, then headed to the loft to examine the counterfeit record Steele had swiped.

* * *

Steele kept dinner simple and light that evening, serving a marinated salmon with mango-kiwi relish. After perusing his wine collection, he selected a 1984 Hidden Cellars Reisling, an excellent compliment to the rich flavors of the salmon. He timed the meal perfectly, having just served the food onto two plates when the doorbell rang. Answering the door, he gave Laura a quick, yet breathtaking kiss, before she even had the chance to set down her belongings. She graced him with a stunning smile in response to the greeting, then headed to his bedroom to put up her overnight bag and to hang her clothes in his closet.

Dinner was a quiet affair in which they concentrated on fortifying their bodies, while small touches were frequently exchanged. For both of them, it had been too long since they had had absolutely privacy in which to enjoy one another. As the meal was nearly finished, Steele took Laura's hand in his and introduced a topic that had been on his mind since she had arrived.

"Uh, Laura," he cleared his throat, then continued, "Don't you think the time's long past that you should just use your key when you come over rather than ringing the bell?" His brow lifted as Laura removed her hand from his and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. When she answered, she avoided his eyes.

"I wouldn't want to, um, invade your privacy."

"What privacy, specifically, do you think might be invaded?" He sat back in his chair, amused, as he watched a charming blush climb her neck and spread across her face. Glancing at him and seeing the mild smile on his lips she frowned slightly at him.

"We are both more than aware that there have been several times in the past when I have arrived to some rather… awkward moments." Her frown settled into a scowl when he threw back his head and laughed.

"Are you saying you're concerned that you'll walk in and find me with another woman?"

"Well, it has been known to happen." His brow quirked at her defensive response.

"When?"

"The hooker last year…"

"A client, whose presence was readily explained if you recall."

"That bimbo cheerleader."

"Technically, I believe you arrived with her when you brought me home from the emergency ward." His bemused smile returned and spread at her frown as she explored her memory looking for more examples.

"Felicia."

"Who surprised me as much as she did you. Can you recall any time in which you have actually found me in flagrante delicto?" He watched as she pondered his question.

"Well, no, when you put it like that." Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his once more.

"You might be shocked to learn how long it has been since I last invited any woman but you to come home with me. But suffice it to say, it was well before you and I committed to one another."

"Oh?"

"Mmmmmm. Any other concerns we need to address?"

"And if Daniel or someone else from your past arrives that you don't want me knowing about?" She raised her brow in challenge on this question.

"I have nothing to hide from you, Laura." She studied his earnest blue eyes carefully, then slowly smiled.

"Alright then."

"Alright then." He said the words slowly, savoring that she had so easily set her concerns aside. His hand reached out, his fingers hooking around the back of her neck, then gently pulled her towards him. "Come here, Laura." She sighed as he uttered one of her favorite phrases before their lips met in a tender kiss. "Let's get everything cleaned up, so we can talk," he suggested when their lips parted. Laura nodded her assent.

They washed the dishes and wiped down surfaces with the comfortable ease of two people who had done so frequently in the past. Once finished, he grabbed their glasses, she their bottle of wine, and they adjourned to the living room. Laura swung open the French doors leading out to the terrace, allowing the evening breeze to flow through the room, while Steele flipped on the gas to the fireplace then lit it. They stretched out in front of the fire, facing one another, heads propped on hands.

"So, shall we, uh, indulge in small talk for a bit, or would you rather just forge ahead into the main discussion?" His hand reached out and swept her hair over her shoulder. Given the topic looming in front of them, that of their relationship, both were amazingly relaxed.

"Forge ahead I think."

"Well, then… At the office you were saying you want more…" He opened the door to let her walk through it. He watched as she took another drink of her wine, then sitting up, placed the glass on the table next to the chair against which she propped herself.

"Yes." At her monosyllabic response, he pushed himself up off the floor, and moved to sit next to her. Picking up a hand, he laced his fingers through her own. He waited patiently for her to continue, which she did on a sigh.

"I don't want to pressure you."

"Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, then I'll let you know if I feel pressured?" He made the suggestion on a soft voice, with a squeeze of a hand. He felt, so much as saw, Laura relax beside him.

"I miss you at night, more than I thought I would. I miss falling asleep with you, waking with you, finding you next to me in the middle of the night. I miss touching you, feeling you under my hands. I was thinking, if you're agreeable…" she paused, fortified herself, already off-balance by her confession "that maybe we could spend two nights a week together. We would both have our independence still but have more time for us as well."

"Hmmmm." He considered her suggestion, had been hoping for more. If he had his druthers, they would spend far more than two nights a week together and told her so, in a moment of pure honesty. "Two nights? I was hoping for more."

" _You were_?" The surprise was written on her face as her eyes widened and in her voice, which had moved up an octave.

"Mmmmmm." He smiled at her, enjoying her shock.

"How _much_ more?"

"I told you the first weekend we spent here together that I hoped you'd get used to falling asleep in my arms. I meant it. If I could, I'd wake every morning with you beside me…" He watched as her jaw fell open, shocked at his words. Then as her eyes brightened with panic. He caught her around the waist as she prepared to bolt and pulled her down into his lap. She landed hard. "Oooomph." He moaned at the impact, physically cringing at the same time. "Should have thought more about that." She looked at him and began to laugh, the moment dissolving the tension. He grinned ruefully at her. "Perhaps I can finish what I was saying now?"

"Alright," she agreed warily.

"While I'd prefer to wake with you in my arms every morning, I know neither of us are prepared for that at the moment."

"Why don't we start with two, and see how that goes, but leave the door open for more if all goes well?" She looped her arms around his neck, the smiled as he nuzzled her cheek with his own.

"Have you a particular two days in mind?"

"I was thinking the weekends. We already spend most of Saturday and Sunday together so it would be a natural progression. Plus, it wouldn't interfere with work."

"Then you would come home with me Friday after work…"

"Or you home with me…" She pointed out.

"And then?"

"One of us would go home on Sunday night."

"I have one condition." This was said in a serious voice, causing Laura to lean back and look at him.

"What's that?"

"If we stay at the loft, we make a mandatory run by the grocery. A weekend of frozen pizza and yogurt? I shudder to think." Laura threw back her head and laughed. Standing, she grabbed her wine glass from the table, then moved to lean back against the couch, so that they could continue their conversation face-to-face.

"I suppose I could agree to that."

"And…um… the slopes?" He grew serious again. "If they are to remain closed, I understand."

"Open with cautionary signs? I don't want to give up that part of our time together, but I don't want it to be all that there is either. I don't want us to lose what we already have: our friendship, simply just enjoying being in one another's company. I want our time to mean something… all of it, not just part." Steele had watched her carefully while she spoke, reading her body language, the movement of her eyes, her expressions. Now he stood over her, holding out his hand.

"Come on." He waved his fingers, palm upheld. "Let's get more comfortable for this conversation."

He'd noticed over recent months that Laura tended to be less guarded, less on edge discussing their relationship when they were in close physical proximity. Given the waters into which she was wading, he felt the closer they were to one another the better. When her hand slipped into his, he moved to sit in the corner of the sofa, then waited for her to join him. He had anticipated that she would curl up next to him, but raised a brow as she stretched out on her back, then lay her head back on his thigh. Stretching his legs out until his feet were propped on the coffee table, he lay an arm around her side, resting his hand on her stomach.

"Uh, Laura," he began, then cleared his throat before continuing on, "Do you honestly believe that what we have between us could ever become simply about, errr, physical satisfaction?" She tilted her head back, glanced at him, then resumed her original position. Picking up the hand on her stomach, she began tracing the lines of his palm with a finger.

"No…I don't know… maybe. It's not out of the realm of possibility, you have to admit. How many, um, marriages, relationships have you seen where once the sex became mundane, it all fell apart? Given sex has been a contentious area for us from the start – should we, why aren't we, when will we – if our personal time becomes solely about feeding our need to be more physically intimate, then what?"

 _Ah, Laura, a little slip on your part? Our need? Has it not occurred to you the reason our need to be more intimate is so strong because of all that we are to one another?_ He watched her for several long moments, then spoke.

"Laura…uh… when we were… um… apart… last summer, what made you come to London?" She tilted back her head again, a puzzled look on her face.

"You know why. I came to bring you home." His heart warmed at her words, even though he knew the answer before he spoke, otherwise he wouldn't have asked, as it served a point.

"Why?" That he persisted along this line of questioning peaked her curiosity and she wished he'd simply get to the point.

"Because it's where you belong…here."

"You missed my presence…"

"Well, yes."

"As I missed yours. I'd not imagined how difficult it would be not to see you each day. Our desire to spend more time together is not about just sex…" he looked down at her with a raised brow, pretending offense, earning a laugh from her, "but about being in one another's presence. We will always be friends and partners first, regardless of what comes after."

"You really believe that don't you?" she asked, as she lifted her arm and brushed his cheek with her fingers.

"Mmmm. I do. It is a strong foundation we've built, you and I." He watched as Laura pushed herself up, then moved next to him, curling into his side. He wrapped his arm around her, giving her a slight hug in the process.

"We have, haven't we?" _Even, at times, against our own will._ Her hand mindlessly stroked against his shoulder, drawing him to shift more to his side, his fingers reaching up to stroke the side of her throat.

"Mmmmm. We have. It has sustained us well. I don't know that we'd have made it through the aftermath of Cannes, last summer, had it not been for that."

His fingers, moved to hook behind her neck, drawing her lips to his. They both inhaled deeply at initial contact, his arm pulling her closer until she was pressed against his chest, as their mouths explored, tasted, relished one another's nearness. At Steele's quiet moan, Laura pulled away, then as his eyes held fast to her own, resumed the kiss, unable to resist the lure of desire she'd seen in his eyes. His fingers swept the length of her neck, as tongues tangled, tasted, stroked. Laura moved, needing to be closer still, until she's shifted herself to sit in his lap, her lips leaving his to find his neck while a hand found his hair. Laying his head back onto the back of the couch, eyes closed, his splayed fingers found and wandered up her waist, her side, before sliding across her back then up into her hair. Bracing his palm against the back of her head, he urged her to return her lips to his, humming when they merged once more. When he moved to deepen the kiss, she pulled away. He resigned himself to once again accepting her second thoughts, then nearly released his breath on a whoosh when he looked at her. He noted her flushed skin, rapid breathing, swollen lips, but it was the naked passion in her eyes that held him spellbound. He leaned towards her once more, when she stood and walked away, leaving him deflated.

"Where are you going?" He called after her in a raspy, strained voice.

"To get changed. We have a warehouse to break into, Mr. Steele, if you recall." She paused in the doorway of the bedroom to turn and look at him, biting down on her lip as her eyes swept over him. "And the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."

"I like how your mind works, Miss Holt." He called to her in the bedroom. He heard her laugh in response.

"Somehow I thought you would."

They changed quickly and headed out towards Badham's warehouse.

* * *

Three hours later they returned to Steele's apartment. It was nearing midnight, and they'd both hoped to be home much earlier. Yet, murder tended to disrupt the best laid of plans. After watching Rick Badham take his last breath, they'd called the LAPD to notify them of a homicide at the warehouse, then had waited until the arrival of the police only to have to contend with the tedious interviews that accompanied witnessing the aftermath of a murder. By the time they reached the apartment they were tired, and more than a bit irritated that their plans for the evening had taken a hit, at least where time spent together was concerned.

As he closed the door behind them, Laura laced her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her for a kiss, fingers of one hand stroking the back of his neck. Their lips brushed against one another, before settling in for a soft, tantalizing kiss. When they separated he pulled her into a hug, his hand smoothing down the back of her head, before kissing her atop of it then, releasing her, gave her a little shove towards his room.

"Go… shower. I'll take the next round."

Laura walked towards the bedroom, then paused mid-step. On a sigh, she decided not to deny herself what she most wanted at the moment. _Him, I just want to be with him, feel his skin under my hands, feel his hands on me. To be as close as to one another as we possibly can at the moment._

She turned on her heel and returned to him. Taking his hand in hers, she rubbed their joined hands against her cheek as she looked up at him. He understood what she was asking without her every saying a word. His other hand rose to caress her neck.

"You're sure, Laura?" He watched her carefully, examining her face, her eyes, for the slightest bit of doubt.

"Yes." The word was spoken softly, but firmly. His answer was a simple nod, words failing him. When she pulled away, she kept his hand firmly in hers as she led their way to the bedroom and the bathroom beyond.

 _She never ceases to surprise me. One moment ready to run, the next seeking to be as close as possible. I cannot help but wonder what it will be like when she finally stops fighting what we are meant to be._

She stopped at her bag to collect what she would need - shampoo, brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, panties, pajamas – while he went to his dresser to pull out his pajamas and boxers. He ended up in the bathroom before her; she could hear when the shower began to run. At the sound of the running water, a shiver of nervousness ran through her, and she closed her eyes. It was not that she was afraid, per se, of being completely unclothed in front of him for the first time, as her logic reminded her, there was little left that his hands had not already discovered for themselves in Vail. Neither was she self-conscious, at least per se, of her body. _Face it, Holt, you're intimidated. You're hardly his normal preference: Tall, leggy and…errrrr…buxom. Still, he never appeared disappointed in Vail, quite the opposite actually. So icy calm, Holt, icy calm._

Pep talk complete, she headed into the bathroom to join him. That when she put her belongings down and looked up at him, he appeared as nervous and uncertain as she, soothed her frazzled nerves.

Steele had watched Laura from the bathroom, as she'd gathered together her things, then had seemingly become lost in thought. The fact that when she'd invited him to join her in the shower he had nearly immediately experienced the distinctly uncomfortable feeling of being an experienced, still wet behind the ears youth had left him off kilter. Over the years he'd had many a tryst with women in the shower, as warm water running over two hot bodies seeking release was certainly an experience he'd enjoyed. So why was he suddenly so off-balance now, he wondered. _You well know why, old sport. This is not any woman, this is Laura. Years of waiting for moments like these with her, and one misstep will likely mean she shuts herself away once more. Icy calm, mate, let her take the lead._

After depositing her shampoo in the shower stall, Laura turned towards him and reached for the buttons on her shirt. Suddenly all thumbs, she tried twice to push a button through its hole, only to find it slip from her grasp. She closed her eyes, and shook her head, then released a quiet growl of frustration. Steel had watched her escalating nerves and decided it was time one of them showed mercy on them both.

"Uh, Laura, we don't have to do this.." he began, then watched as her head snapped around to face him, interrupting him before he could finish his thought.

"No, I want to. It's just…" she gave a half laugh, sardonic in nature, then closing her eyes again, shook her head.

"It's just what?" he prompted. Facing him again, she rolled her eyes, then gave him a half smile, before letting out another growl of frustration.

"Damn it, I feel like I'm sixteen years old again!" She frowned when Steele burst out into laughter at her words. "It's not funny."

"Quite the contrary. It is extraordinarily funny if you consider I was just thinking that I feel like an untried youth about to see a girl undressed for the first time." Laura watched him for a moment, measuring the veracity of his statement, then began to laugh.

"Some pair we are, huh? Well, here goes nothing…" Taking a breath, her hands returned to the buttons on her blouse.

"Let me." His voice was raspy with need when he spoke. _Bloody hell, where did that come from? Once more reduced to all but begging. And so much for letting her take the lead._ He watched Laura as her uncertainty returned, all but damning himself for causing a resurgence of her nervousness. He watched as she looked away, convinced she was about to take him up on his suggestion that she shower alone. It nearly took his breath away when she turned back to him with an impish grin on her face.

"Only if I get to return the favor." She watched, pleased with herself, as his eyes lit with delight at the unexpected response, then an instant later turn intense with desire.

"Ladies first." He raised a brow in challenge at her, in response to her suddenly playful mood. She accepted his dare, and took a step forward, her eyes holding his boldly. She only broke contact when his hands moved to the buttons of her blouse. She watched as he opened them one-by-one, before pulling the tail from her pants then sliding the blouse off her shoulders to fall to the floor at her feet. She smirked at his shock in finding her sans bra underneath the blouse. He lifted his head, a brow raised in question. She in turn simply shrugged.

"One of the benefits of not being….overly endowed." A hand traced her collarbone before lowering so that splayed fingers could brush over the freckles that held him enraptured.

"Should I ask how often?" He watched as her breath quickened at the feel of his fingers on her bare skin. He ran the back of his fingers down the center of her chest, then turning them over skimmed along the bottom edges of her breasts, before they moved to explore her side, the feel of her ribs under his fingers, the curve of her waist.

"I shouldn't say. You'd never get any work done." He chuckled at her deliberate taunt, then sucked in a deep breath when he felt her fingers move to his waist.

"My turn." She reminded him, then yanking his shirt from his pants, her hands made slow, tantalizing work of the buttons, stopping after each to touch the continually larger expanses of skin that was revealed. When the shirt was fully unbuttoned she parted it just enough that she could finger the hair of his chest, seemingly mesmerized as it curled over her fingers before laying back down precisely where it had been moments before contact. She laughed when he growled her name in frustration. "Laurrrraaaaaaaa." Showing mercy, she finally shoved the shirt off his shoulders so that it could join her shirt on the floor below.

"Your turn." He quirked a cocky grin at her, to which she bit her lip, before raising her brows at him and grinning wickedly.

"I hadn't realized we were permitted to stop and play, but now that I am?" He'd expected some hesitancy at his words, but found himself grinning at her smug smile. His fingers skimmed across her abdomen, flirted with the waistband of her pants before skittering away, towards her back. The fingers of both hands skimmed along her lower back, before moving downwards, his palms flattening as they explored the rounded contours of her bum. His hands moved to her hips, turned her around, then splayed hands descended from abdomen to thigh. She gasped at the sensation, pressed back against him. Both hands journeyed back to the waistband, one skimming along it as the other moved to the button of her pants, releasing it. He slowly slid down the zipper, before his fingers skimmed inside, running down over her panties, feeling the dampness if the fabric beneath his fingers. He felt her breath quicken at the touch, then chuckled.

"Be careful, Mr. Steele," she gave him a breathy warning, "you know what they say: all's fair…." In response to her implied threat, a lone finger dipped inside the waistband of her panties, ran along the edge, taunting her. It was her turn to laugh in sensual satisfaction when she heard his breath hiss through his teeth as her hand that had reached between them skimmed against his erection.

"Point made," he growled, then with a quick flick of his wrists, shoved her pants over her hips, where they fell to the ground, his following not far behind as she turned in his arms and made quick work of releasing the button and zipper of his pants, before shoving them down over his hips.

He leaned forward, his lips finding hers. The kiss as at once tender and impassioned, meant to dare, tempt, tame, possess. Laura turned herself over to the sensual experience, giving and taking no less than he. Their lips still merged, their hands swept away the last vestiges of their clothing before, arms wrapped around of one another, kiss unbroken, they stumbled together into the shower. They tasted, touched, tempted one another endlessly, taking one another over the edge of oblivion through the use of creative hands and fingers … twice … before their sated bodies became oversensitive to touch. They shampooed and washed, sharing kisses in between, before stumbling out of the shower and drying off, both of their bodies craving closeness and sleep. Laura watched with appreciation while he pulled on his pajama bottoms as she pulled on her panties. When she reached for her pajamas, his hand moved them out of the way, and pulling her to him, he threaded first one arm and then another into his pajama top before buttoning a single button. Taking her by the hand, he led her to bed. Reclining on his back he pulled her tight against him after she draped herself across his lean frame.

They lay in silence for several minutes, while his fingers played with the damp, curling tendrils of her hair, as she used a lone finger to draw abstract designs across the chest below it. His mind wandered back to the conversation they'd had earlier in the evening contrasting it with the time just spent together.

 _My God, through her touch alone she takes me to heights that I've seldom experienced when joined with another. Is this, then, another testament to the foundation we have created, that she is so in tune with me, I with her? I cannot even begin to imagine what it will be like between us when we finally become lovers in every sense of the word, although mundane it will certainly not ever be._ His finger sought, found her cheek, his fingertips simply lying against her skin.

Her finger stilled in its path. She lifted her head, resting her chin on the arm she folded across his chest so she could look at him. Her eyes searched his questioningly, as his thumb moved to stroke along the underside of her jaw. The soft contemplation she found in his eyes sent a thrill down her spine.

"Uh, Laura, I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

"Oh? And what specifically was that?" Her lips quirked, as they had said any number of things to one another in the shower…enticing things…delicious things… things remembered that made her blood heat again. She bit her lip remembering, saw now the moment he read her mind.

"Why, Miss Holt, I'd never have believed, if I'd not witnessed it myself, what a salacious mind you have." He raised a brow at her, and unable not to appreciate this side of her, grinned down at her.

"Takes one to know one." She taunted him playfully, then pushed herself up to touch her lips to his. That he made no attempt to prolong or deepen the kiss gave her pause; that when she moved back to rest her chin on her arm once more and his fingertips returned to her cheek, simply seeking contact with slow, hypnotic strokes made her realize he was not in a playful mood, but a pensive one. Her fingers found his shoulder, caressing it without conscious thought.

"Let's try again," she murmured. "What was it that I said earlier that you've been thinking about?"

"I wonder if it's possible… just possible mind you…" he tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear, then resumed stroking her cheek, while mindfully keeping eye contact with her "...that it's not the, ummmm, concern that one of us will walk away when what we have between us becomes… in your words… mundane… that has kept us apart all these years. I wonder if it's possible that it's actually quite the opposite."

The fingers in his hair stilled, then withdrew. She frowned a little at where the conversation was heading, as it came too close to the place where her fears of this, them, resided. Her walls automatically began to raise as those fears began to clench at her heart. Without conscious thought, she moved herself away from him, then rolled onto her back to look at the ceiling.

He instinctively knew she was distancing herself not only physically, but was mentally trying to distance herself from him as well. He rolled over, then pushing himself up on his arms moved over her, carefully lowering himself down until their bodies were pressed together from chest to toes. After fitting his arms under her shoulders, he allowed his hands to play freely with her hair.

"We'll have none of that, Laura." He informed her then chuckled at the purely mutinous look in her eyes.

"None of what?" she fairly growled the question.

"Backing away, pushing me away. I listened as you spoke earlier this evening, will you now do me that same honor?" Closing her eyes and letting out a frustrated breath, she nodded her head sharply. She waited for him to speak and instead became conscious of the fact that his fingers had stopped moving in her hair and were now massaging their way across her scalp. She nearly moaned at the sensation, resisted the impulse, and opened her eyes to look at him. She watched the smile lift his lips. "Better." His comment brought a roll of her eyes, which in turn drew another chuckle from him.

"You're not playing fair." His grin widened as one hand left her hair and moved to stroke her cheek once more.

"I believe you're the one who pointed out earlier that all's fair..." She huffed her breath at him, then sucked it back in sharply when his lips began pressing a string of soft kisses along her forehead. Her arms automatically circled his sides, her fingers feathering along his back in response. Unseen to her, he smiled in satisfaction before speaking, while continuing to rain kisses across her face. "Laura… can you deny… that there has been something... between us… since the moment we met?... I know I can't…"

"No." The single syllable was said on sigh.

"Can you deny… that we've danced… both of us… in our way… around whatever it is… for years?"

"No." One of her hands found its way to the back of his neck, applied pressure and she raised her chin, silently requesting the presence of his lips on hers. His lips ran across hers eliciting a hum of pleasure, only to leave and find her jaw. She groaned in frustration, to be met with a little laugh. "You're enjoying this too much," she groused.

"That I am." He lifted his head and grinned smugly at her, but was unable to hide the desire in his eyes that said he was reacting as much as she to his sensual assault on her. His lips began to travel once more, over her neck, behind her ear. Her hands once again began to wander. "Have you ever thought… Laura… that perhaps… just perhaps…that what makes us… do this dance… is not… the fear… one of us… will get bored… and walk away…. But that… once… we give ourselves… over to this… that we will… be unable… to walk away?"

Her hands stilled again, resumed their journeys.

"Is that what you think?" A hand moved to the back of his head, pressing upon it, as his lips grazed along her collarbone. She felt his nod under the weight of her hand.

"I am… beginning to… yes." His hand moved between them, slipping the button on his pajama top loose, then swept the shirt open, so he could lay kisses along the freckles speckling her chest. Her hands caught his head between them, lifting it so that he looked at her.

"Why? Why do you think that?" She thought the answer might frighten her, but still could not know what that answer was. A hand closed her shirt, re-latched the button, then moved to her cheek to brush against it.

"Because I think we both know that this – our friendship, partnership, what is between us – could never be mundane. Do we not?" He watched as her eyes closed, saw her battling with herself.

She did not deny to herself that her first instinct was to duck the question, to avoid. To answer this question and any that may follow would be opening herself up more to him, letting him in further. Yet, when she opened her eyes, saw the earnestness in the blue eyes looking down at her, she found herself unable to avoid the truth. She bit her lip, then releasing it, shook her head in the negative.

"We could never be mundane, even if we tried." The admission was difficult, but once made she felt... relieved. The realization brought a smile to her face. Moving her hands between them, she pressed against his chest, then waited as he rolled back onto his back before melding herself to his side, a hand reaching for his ribs, while a leg curled over top of his. "So what does that leave then?"

"What we are meant to be… extraordinary, I believe."

"That's frightening in its own way."

"Yes… it is."

As she felt the steady thumping of his heart beat underneath her hand, felt his lips press down on top of her head as his arms tightened even more securely about her, it occurred to her, _I think we may be._ On that thought and a deep sigh, she allowed sleep to take over.

* * *

For the first time in nearly two weeks, she slept soundly through the night, her subconscious recognizing that there was no need to search for her Mr. Steele, as he was wrapped snuggly around her all night long.

They woke late the next morning, having hit the snooze button on the alarm clock far too many times. As Steele, without concern, strolled to the kitchen to get Laura's coffee brewing and his tea steeping, Laura grumbled continuously in the bathroom as her hair was determined to be uncooperative today. Finally giving up, she walked back into the bedroom and slung her brush into her bag. _It is what it is, I guess._

She frowned as she pulled on pants and a blouse, then closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as she smelled the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Before she could make it out of the bedroom, Steele walked in and casually handed her a cup, black as she liked it, as though it was a routine they had gone through countless mornings before. She grinned at his back as he walked into the bathroom, then began scowling again as she watched his hair fall into perfect order with only a couple sweeps of his brush. _Not fair,_ she grumbled to herself, while drinking the caffeinated beverage in her hand greedily.

Coffee cup empty, she made her way to the kitchen. Pouring a fresh cup, she spied the toast and strawberry jam Steele had set out on the counter. Lathering a piece of the toast with a generous helping of jam, she alternated between nibbling at the toast and taking long drinks of the coffee. Her mood brightened considerably as the caffeine infused her… or it could have been because of the steamy kiss Steele gave her when he entered the kitchen, commenting when they parted "Mmmmm. Strawberry jam, my favorite." As a smile spread across her face, he leaned back against the counter with his cup of tea in hand, smiling over the rim at her.

"Is it safe to wish you a good morning now?" He chuckled when she had the grace to look sheepish over her foul mood when they woke.

"I don't like waking up late." She told him by way of excuse. He nodded his head at her.

"I'm well aware of that, after having spent many a morning with you over the years." She smiled at him and took another long pull of her coffee, before setting her cup down on the counter.

"With professional Laura, yes."

"It seems that, uh, personal Laura wakes much the same."

"Perhaps, except with one major exception when, uh, personal Laura wakes with you."

"Oh, how's that?" He asked raising his brows with curiosity, his alert eyes watching as she approached him, as her fingers nimbly opened several buttons on his shirt before a hand slid underneath to graze his chest.

"She'd much prefer to wake to you like this." Pushing herself up on her tip toes, she ran her lips against his before she playfully darted her tongue out to touch them, smiling against his mouth as it opened to her. Their tongues played, tangled and tasted before he ended the kiss with a small growl.

"While I certainly applaud your preference on waking, if you keep that up, Laura, we're going to be _very_ late." She laughed, then released him. After pouring herself another cup of coffee, she returned to his bedroom to pack up her belongings and pull on her shoes. Steele followed behind her, buttoning up his shirt as he walked. With a glance at Laura, he selected a tie and jacket to wear for the day ahead. They would wrap up the KROT case this morning, having created a ruse to draw out the killer. He glanced Laura's way again, noting that she was zipping up her overnight bag.

Turning as he knotted his tie, he cleared his throat, catching her attention.

"Uh, Laura, it occurs to me.. Since we are going to be spending weekends together, either here or at the loft, perhaps we might want to, uh, leave a few changes of clothes, some personal items…shampoo and the like…at each other's places, so that we don't have to tote around our belongings each weekend." He watched her closely, trying to read her, to anticipate her response. She simply turned her head towards him and shrugged her shoulders.

"We could do that." She'd answered as casually as she would have should he have suggested that they eat out that evening. Sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and shoes, he pondered the changes that had rapidly occurred over the course of the last few weeks. _A vacation, the furtherance of their physical relationship, our agreement that we both need more time with one another. It seems the last four years have been marked by one roadblock after another where our personal relationship is concerned, yet now suddenly everything is coming together so seamlessly. Can it really be this easy?_

"Are you ready?" Laura's question broke him from his thoughts.

"Ready when you are." He stood up and took her overnight bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder. With a hand on the small of her back, he followed her through the front door.

* * *

With Rhymin' Lyman in custody for the murders of Rich Badham and Doug West and their interviews with the LAPD at least complete, Laura and Steele were in the Rabbit heading back to the office. Laura glanced over at Steele, suppressing a grin. She knew she'd thrown him off balance a couple of times this morning. First when she'd grabbed his arm and told him to be careful, then later when she'd asked if he would be satisfied with one adoring fan. _Enjoy it while you can, Mr. Steele, because we can't indulge in mixing our professional and personal lives on a regular basis._

Steele glanced at Laura, as he considered two oddities in her behavior this morning. First, she'd grabbed his arm and then in a somewhat flirtatious tone, told him to be careful. He'd simultaneously been touched by her rare display of concern, and baffled by in her openness in the middle of a business day, while working a case nonetheless. Then later, as he'd lamented the loss of the _People_ magazine spread, yet again clearly flirting with him, she's asked if he would settle for one adoring fan. In the middle of the business day... while on a case.

Oh, he'd enjoyed both open displays of caring and concern, but the fact that it conflicted with their agreement in London to draw a clear line between their professional lives and their personal ones worried him. Perhaps the decision to spend more of their time together had set her free for a moment. Perhaps not. He knew he'd have to take care to make certain they did not cross the boundaries between personal and professional too often, or it might be cause for her to pull away yet again. This, definitely, bore watching.

In the meantime, however, the case was wrapped up, and all that was left was the paperwork. Perhaps, if he helped with said paperwork, they'd be able to go get a bite of dinner, maybe even catch a movie. He ran his hand down over the arm nearest him, before taking her hand and kissing the back of fingers.

"Dinner and a movie tonight, Miss Holt?" She glanced at him quickly before turning her attention back to the road. She smiled widely, delighted at the invitation.

"I'd love to, Mr. Steele." She stole another glance in his direction, noting the pleased smile on his face.

 _As Mr. Steele would say,_ she thought to herself, _things are looking very good between us, very good indeed._

* * *

 _I am always curious about how others see Mildred's behavior during parts of Season 4. While yes, I can see Mildred being a bit put out, initially, when she learns his past, I take issue with the several times she takes semi-potshots at Mr. Steele. How quickly Mildred forgets that during Altared Steele in Season 2, he told her nearly all of the truth - only leaving out the part about his colorful history. It was a heartfelt conversation in which Steele bared himself to her like he does few others. Yet, after Mildred discovers his 'secret' in Season 4, she makes it a point on several occasions to undermine him (Grappling Steele), express her doubts in him (Forged Steele), and minimize his capabilities (Coffee, Tea or Steele)._

 _I, for one, was very unhappy with the writers in this approach, as they seemed to neglect to remember that by Season 4, Steele has put in the full three years that would be required of an apprenticeship... and should they pay attention, he shows his investigators license several times during Season 4 - quite proudly at that. Further, he is, in fact, Laura's partner, and has been stressed for years "the Boss" though Laura is in charge. While yes, Mildred has many years as a fraud squad investigator under her belt, she seems to forget for a time that she came to Laura and Steele begging for a job... as their secretary, not an investigator in training._

 _I really loathed Mildred for much of Season 4 because of the lines scripted her by the writers. She became less about team "RS Agency" and more about "Team Mildred" for a time period there. It is why, in future writings (although a heart-to-heart from Laura is coming up in the next Season 4 story), I make it a point to restore Mildred to who she is: an ardent support of both her "kids" who is not afraid to mince words with them as needed. And yes, post-Season 5 she does become an investigator._

 _What is your opinion on Mildred?_

 _Oh, and lest I forget: Can you see Remington and Laura advancing their relationship as the are doing here?_

 _Drop me a line!_


End file.
